Follow Heart, Follow Home
by Sweet Little Mary Sue
Summary: Shaina Lewis needed a miracle, which made her like everyone else that was left desperately clinging to life in a world that was unlivable, but unlike everyone else, she still believed that one would come her way...Mad Max: Fury Road universe, Max/OFC.
1. Chapter One

Follow Heart, Follow Home

Sweet Little Mary Sue

Synopsis: Shaina Lewis needed a miracle, which made her like everyone else that was left desperately clinging to life in a world that was unlivable, but unlike everyone else, she still believed that one would come her way. She knew that there would be someone who would be willing to help her, as long as she held fast to the hope that they would do so…she'd just never expected salvation to come her way in the form of a man who needed her just as much as she needed him.

Disclaimer: I own nothing found in this work of fanfiction, save for my OC, Shaina, the idea for the story, and any and all characters and plot points that might stumble out of my imagination as the tale unfolds. All characters that you recognize, along with the universe that they inhabit, are the brainchildren of George Miller. I would also like to mention that the title for this story was taken from the lyrics of the song, "Apocalypse Lullaby", by The Wailin' Jennys.

Author's Note: I was very reluctant to begin this story, given that the film that is the main basis for my plot, _Mad Max: Fury Road_, will not be released until May of next year, but the idea refused to leave me alone. So, I will be making this up as I go along, with help from what I read online and in magazines, and I will also be taking a little from the original _Mad Max_, as well as _Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior_, to flesh out my version of Max.

Rating Warning: This story is rated **M** for violence and gore, mentions of rape, mild to moderate cursing, and eventual citrus, both limes and lemons.

Chapter One

Shaina's POV

There was a great cloud of dust rising on the distant horizon, toward the setting sun. I found a place to stand on the crumbling front porch that I sensed would support my weight and watched the haze grow larger as the caravan grew ever closer to my home. There was a small part of me, a tiny portion that had been brought to life by the worst of violations, which told me to run below, to hide in the cellar, but the soft voice wasn't enough to deter the larger part of my self, the one that said that my miracle was in that cloud of dust, and I was content to stay right where I was, and wait for them to appear.

My hands moved to my ever-growing belly and cupped the life within, just as they always did when a moment arrived which allowed me to stand idle. They were few and far between, which made them precious to me, and I wasn't about to allow the opportunity to stroke my growing child to pass me by. That miniscule part of me was a pessimistic bitch, and nothing pleased her more than to bring down my spirits, so it came as no surprise to me when she started whispering in my mind, calling me ten different kinds of fool, and insisting that the dust cloud was bringing danger and death to my door. Thankfully, I was able to ignore her, just as I had all of the times before…yet I couldn't help but feel a tiny niggling of fear, deep within my heart, one that lingered for a second, then two, before I managed to chase it away.

"Don't worry, little one," I whispered, slowly stroking my hand down the curve of my tummy, then gasping with delight when I felt a nudge through my flesh, perhaps a tiny hand, or a foot, brushing through the layers, to stroke against my palm. "I know that they're there, whoever they may be. We're not going to die here; we're not going to waste away. We're going to live, you and I, we're going to make it…I promise you that."

I hadn't broken my word to my child, not once, and I was not going to do so this time either. Our home was an eyesore, a ramshackle structure that had once stood so tall and proud and beautiful, before the world had descended into Hell. Now it was like everything else in the country, desolate and shaken by the constant barrage of heated wind and choking dust. The land was dead, long since gone to waste, with little of what had been, until one had to wonder if it had ever truly been that way at all.

In my calmer moments I knew, without a doubt, that I _hadn't_ imagined my life on the farm when it had been a living, working treasure. I hadn't made up my Grand and Gran. They had been the only father and mother that I'd ever known, having lost my parents when I was two, and they'd raised me in this place which had once been a farmhouse. I hadn't imagined the life that we'd shared with one another, but what did that matter, now that they, and everything they'd worked so hard for, were gone?

The cloud of dust was closer now, and I could see that it did trail a caravan, just as I'd suspected, but I never would have imagined that there would be so many vehicles traveling together. I hadn't seen so many motors all at once in years, yet here they were, ten, from my count, moving steadily across the barren land. My breath caught in my throat for just a moment when I saw that one of the vehicles was a bastardized fuel tanker, and then left me in a gasp born of wonderment. I hadn't thought that there would still be a need for something like that, given the scarcity of fuel, and for one foolish instant I allowed myself to believe that it was full of lifesaving petrol…until, all of the sudden, it died, and I saw then that half of the vehicles had done the same while my attention was on the huge fuel truck, and the rest followed suit soon after.

They were still a good distance away from me, the travelers were tiny figures, indiscernible as male or female, friend or foe, but their number surprised me. I would have thought that there would be thirty of them, at the very least, but from what I could see, there was actually a little less than half that number in the group. Of course, I knew that a dozen people could easily subdue me, as a matter of fact, I would have felt outnumbered by three people, but I knew that my miracle was amongst them, I felt their presence deep in my bones, and there was no way that I would allow my fear to defeat me, not now that I'd made it so far.

I made my way across the porch to the front door as quickly as I could, while still taking great care to ensure that each board was secure enough to hold my weight. Needless to say, my movements weren't nearly as swift as I would have liked for them to be, but a glance over my shoulder as I made my way inside showed that the group was still where I'd last seen them, and I knew that I didn't have to worry about them leaving anytime soon.

I didn't want to give the newcomers the impression that I meant them harm, yet I was protective of my life, as well as that of my child, so I knew that there was no way that I could step outside of my front door without Grand's old Winchester Model 70 on my person. It seemed to me that it would be better received if I slung it across my back, rather than cradling it in my arms as I introduced myself to the group, and a quick perusal beneath the bed uncovered the harness that Grand had used when he would take me and Gran for a stroll. The strap didn't fit me as well as it had him, after all, he hadn't had breasts and a bulging belly to contend with, but I managed to get it in place without too much difficulty, and, after several tries, was able to secure my weapon as well.

I covered my head with Gran's old dove colored shawl, leaving my eyes, nose and mouth bare as I looped the fabric over my shoulders, and slid my largest pair of sunblockers onto my face, to shield my eyes. I knew that my nose and mouth were liable to catch a fair amount of hell, bared as they would be to the elements, but I'd long since ran out of the almond oil that I'd once used to protect my skin, and I didn't want to wait until dark to venture out. There were enough bad things that happened while the sun was shining overhead, and I saw no reason to make things any worse, by hiding inside until dusk had fallen, and run the risk of tempting the evil that emerged at night, just to save my skin from the ravages of the sun.

I filled a small pack with some of the scant medical supplies that I'd managed to save, along with several strips of dried beef, and an old solar powered lantern, just in case I needed it, and placed the bag on one shoulder, while the other held two canteens of water, drawn from my precious, and secret, reserve. I knew that a good half-hour had passed since I'd made my way into the house, and the thought that they might leave hastened my steps, so much so that I nearly stumbled on my way out of the front door, and that was all of the encouragement that I needed to slow down and be careful.

I saw that they hadn't moved, they hadn't budged from the spot at all, though several members of the group showed more intelligence than the others by retreating back inside their vehicles, to seek shelter from the sun, and as much of the wind and the dirt as they could. I hoped that my miracle was amongst those who showed that they possessed more common sense than the others, because they weren't going to be much use to me and my baby if they were dimwitted, were they?

I moved the lantern out of my bag as I cautiously made my way across the uneven terrain, to allow it to soak up whatever rays it could, just in case I needed it on the way back home. I was thankful for the boots that protected my legs to my knees, and, oddly enough, I was grateful for the wind as well, because it usually worked when it came to the task of keeping the flying dangers at bay…though it seemed to do little to discourage those which crept and crawled and slithered, though my boots usually did a fair job of keeping me safe where they were concerned.

It had been a long time since I'd gone on a walk; definitely months, possibly years…to be perfectly honest, I couldn't remember doing so since Grand and Gran had passed. Needless to say, I was out of practice, and I wasn't quite as trim as I'd been then, but I made good time just the same. The distance between the caravan and me dwindled, bit by bit, until I was close enough to hear the voices of the group as they spotted me. Most of the tones sounded like the sort that would accompany words of distrust, but there were a couple that seemed to be of the "wait and see" variety, and I hoped that my miracle was in the latter group, rather than the former.

Now that I was closer to them, it was easy for me to see that they were heavily armed, and their number was comprised mostly of females. I took that as a good sign, I thought that women were liable to be less of a threat than men, but one look at their faces, not to mention their body language, told me that I might have been mistaken in that belief. They allowed me to approach, not because they wanted to, but, apparently, because the two figures in the front had bade them to do so.

I surmised that these were the ones who were "in charge"; though it was rare to see a duo who would willingly share that title these days. The one on my left was a female who looked like she could easily break me in two, if she'd wanted to. She bore the look of one who'd seen, and survived, the worst that the world had to offer, but she hadn't escaped unscathed, as the flatness of her eyes, along with her industrial and intimidating prosthetic arm suggested. The one on my right was one of the few males, and he gave every impression of a man who had been broken by life, then reassembled by the stubborn need to survive. His eyes weren't cold like the woman's, but they weren't warm or friendly either, and I began to worry that I _had_ misjudged the situation, I began to suspect that neither of them had really spoken for me, that this was all a trap…..

"Poor little rabbit," the female murmured softly, almost as if she meant to comfort me. "So brave, to trek out on her own, to offer her help and, if my eyes don't deceive me, water as well. That _is_ why you've come, is it not, little rabbit? Surely you don't mean to rob us and leave us for dead, do you?"

Her voice was faintly mocking, and the tone was enough to set my teeth on edge, but I swallowed my need to respond in a way that would tell her that she'd angered me. Life was a dangerous thing, downright deadly, at times, and it was never a good idea to tempt fate. I'd done a good job of blending in to my surroundings for the most part, and I knew that I could keep my voice neutral and my expression friendly and helpful, not because I wanted to, but because I had to.

"I would like to offer my help, along with a share of my supplies, and shelter in my home for as long as you need…provided that you will agree to help me as well."

Max's POV

The little rabbit, eh? She was more of a little mouse, even though there was nothing squeaky or tiny about her voice. It was soft and had a quality that would have been called sultry at one time, when men had time to think about whether or not a woman was sexy. It was obvious that she was scared to death; she would hesitate before she would meet anyone's eyes, and then it was obviously a chore for her to hold their gaze for more than five seconds. Her body language screamed that she wanted to run away from us, to hide, before we had a chance to hurt her, but something kept her rooted in place instead, and I had to wonder if that "something" was the tiny life that was clearly residing in her swollen belly.

I tried to remember the last time that I'd seen a pregnant woman, but it was a distant memory, one that reminded me of another time, a moment that caused me pain, and that was all that it took for me to close my mind on the subject. I wondered what had happened to her man. Was he dead, or had he abandoned her? Had the father of her child been her lover…or had he taken her by force? Rape was a part of life, a reality that was unavoidable, and it made sense that it was that sort of violence that would make this woman so skittish, but if that was the case, why had she kept the baby?

I watched her making her way through the camp, offering her strips of beef and a couple of sips of her water. She gave bandages where they were needed, and cleaned wounds with a homemade antiseptic, and I found that I enjoyed the sight of her, this little mouse of mercy. It was a rarity to find someone who still had the ability, not to mention the desire, to care for their fellow man, to be perfectly honest, it was something that seemed more like a myth these days, and I felt privileged to bear witness to the impossible…and then she came to me.

There was a part of me that wanted to refuse, a small portion, that would have been more content to continue to watch her as she saw to the others, but it wasn't the dominant side of me. I was tired, exhausted really, and my stomach was painfully empty as well. My throat was parched, to the point where it was almost impossible for me to swallow, and I knew that the water that she offered would taste so good, that it would feel so good, and in the end, I did not have the strength to turn her away, neither was I stupid enough to seriously contemplate doing so.

She paused outside of the passenger door of my rig, clearly waiting for my permission to enter, and I gave her a little nod to tell her yes. It made for quite a sight, to watch her clamber inside, fighting all the way with her bag and canteen, not to mention her rounded belly, but in the end she managed just fine…after I offered her my hand, that is. She responded to the gesture with a smile, which caught me completely unaware, because it was one of those things that was a rare treasure these days, and our eyes locked, and held, while I did my best to figure her out, so long, in fact, that she began to blush.

The little mouse could still smile. That in itself was enough to make her different, but to blush as well? That made her special…and that would make her dead, before all was said and done. There had always been predators about, they'd lived and often thrived from the beginning of time, until polite society had developed, and had managed to keep them at bay somewhat…but not anymore. The hunters rode roughshod over the hunted, you could see the proof of who the dominant species was each and every day, and this little mouse would draw them, she would beckon them and lure them. She would be violated and broken before they killed her, and I wouldn't be there to help her. I would fail again, because this time I wouldn't be late. This time I wouldn't be there at all and…..

"I don't mean to stare," she said softly, bringing me out of my thoughts with a start. "It's just, well, I've been alone for so long, and it's nice to be around folks again."

I suppose that I could have pointed out that _I_ was the one who'd been staring at her, but that would have involved participating in an honest to goodness conversation, and I had never been good at that sort of thing. It also occurred to me, somewhere in the back of my mind, where the old stuff was buried, that I would just embarrass her if I said anything that might sound flirty in nature…not that I really knew how to behave like that anymore, if, in fact, I ever truly had.

" 'S alright," I muttered, moving my gaze to my hands, then to the window, to give her a chance to compose herself, before I turned to look at her once more. "I was staring first, wasn't I?"

Well, shit. I hadn't meant to say that out loud, but it was too late to do anything about that now, wasn't it? I didn't smile as I spoke; I hadn't felt the inclination to do that in a number of years. I didn't blush either; I couldn't recall that I'd ever done so at any time in my life. Surprisingly enough, she didn't turn red either, though she did seem a little more, well, _fluttery_ than she did when she'd climbed into my rig.

Fortunately, we both decided, silently, of course, to ignore what I'd just said, and my mind was quickly turned to other things as I watched her open her pack and draw out the folded bundle of paper that I knew held dried strips of beef. I expected, and would have been pleased, had she given me one, two would have surprised and delighted me, but she didn't give me one, or two. She gave me three of them, along with one of her canteens, and it wasn't easy, but somehow I managed to fight the urge to gobble down the food and follow it with every last drop of water.

"Small sips, small bites," she told me, words which ought to have lit my temper, because they sounded like the sort that one would speak to a child…or an idiot…but which, surprisingly enough, didn't make me mad at all. "Throwing up is bad enough without having to do so in the wind and the dust, wouldn't you agree?"

I suppose that this was what they used to call a conversation. I'd kind of forgotten all of the steps, and now that I could observe them again, they seemed like a waste of time. I'd never been one for chitchat, I'd never been any good at that sort of thing, and besides which, the water tasted so good that it almost brought tears to my eyes, and the dried beef was well seasoned and delicious, both of which proved reason enough to stay silent as I enjoyed them.

"I'd rather not discuss it while I'm eating," I told her, shocking the hell out of myself as I spoke, and garnering another smile from her in the process. "If it's all the same to you…ma'am."


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Max's POV

The little mouse didn't have a brain in her head, that is, she didn't have any common sense, which was a shame, because it was obvious that she had a good heart, and that was something that was as rare as fuel these days. I could see that she had a quick mind, in spite of her lack of good judgment, but what use were smarts if you didn't have the ability to keep yourself, not to mention your unborn child, safe? She led all of us back to her home, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do so, when something in the back of her mind ought to have warned her that it was a bad idea.

She had to know that the world had gone to Hell. There was no way that a person could miss the state of things, not unless they were blind, deaf and enclosed in a bubble that was impenetrable to the horrors that were part of everyday life these days. It was obvious that she could see us, I knew that she could hear us, and the fact that she flinched from time to time said that she was just as exposed as the rest of us, so where had all of her determination to be neighborly come from?

Maybe she'd lost her mind completely; maybe she was one of those freaks who drew in those who had the bad fortune to become stranded within walking distance of the dilapidated old farmhouse that she called home. If that was the case, she was garnering our trust with food and water and shelter, and then, once darkness fell and our defenses were down, she would take us out, one by one, to steal everything that we had and either eat us herself, or trade our bodies for goods.

I had encountered a few of those kinds of "people" while I traveled. Bush Dwellers were the lowest of the low, and I'd been obliged to dispose of each one who'd crossed my path and did their best to tear out my throat. I usually felt a pang of conscience when I had to take a life, but that had never been the case when it came to a Dweller. It seemed to me that I was performing a service to the community of mankind when I ended the lives of those who preyed on humans in need, which accounted for the lack of guilt that I was supposed to feel as I did so, but sitting there, watching the little mouse as she removed her sunshields and the shawl that had protected her from the elements, I _did_ feel that twinge of what was right and what was wrong, because it was obvious that she was not a Dweller.

There would be those who would say that she was a good actress, and that was why she didn't have the shifty, hungry eyes that every Bush Dweller possessed. They would say that she knew what the signs were, and that was why she didn't display any of them, but one good look at her told me all that I needed to know. Her eyes were too soft, too trusting and kind and that was something that you just couldn't fake. I don't know if it was a safeguard of sorts, one that was put in place to keep the evil sons of bitches from taking advantage of those around them, but it was impossible for those who weren't good to make their eyes good.

Dwellers also had a tendency to lick their lips a lot, and they constantly ran the tip of their tongues across the backs of their teeth, and the little mouse didn't do either of those things. Her lips weren't as chapped as ours were; they were full and looked like they'd be very soft to the touch instead. I suppose that was because she had a house to stay in, as opposed to being outdoors in the elements all of the time. She kept her tongue in her mouth, she didn't lick her lips or trace the back of her teeth, almost as if she was already savoring the way that we'd taste, and I knew that there was no way that she'd be able to resist the urge to do so, if she was truly a Dweller…especially during a moment like this one, while she was staring right at me.

She'd caught me again, and, just like before, her cheeks turned red, but she didn't look away from me. I wasn't used to people staring at me, and most times it would have pissed me off that they were doing so, but she didn't really fit in either of those categories. She'd been watching me intently from that first moment, and I was beginning to suspect that she would continue to do so, but that didn't make me mad, the way it ought to have done. As a matter of fact, I kind of liked the way she looked at me, it had been a long time since a woman had watched me the way that she was…no…can't think about that, don't want to think about that…..

The moments ticked by as we stared at one another, with me taking up most of the broken-down sofa that had probably been blue and flowery when it was new, and her standing still by the door, with her shields and her shawl clutched tightly in her hands. It was a good thing, for both of us, that none of the others had taken notice of the moment that was passing between me and the little mouse. People still had sex, and they would understand if I wanted to fuck her, in spite of her swollen belly, but there was more than that in the way that we were looking at one another. There was an attraction there that went beyond simple lust, and that was something that they _wouldn't_ understand. That was why I had to end this now, before it got out of hand, and garnered both of us a hell of a lot of trouble…..

I'd been so sure that I would be the one who looked away first, after all, I wasn't as open with what I felt as she was, but she turned away from me before I could do the same to her. I felt something when she looked away from me, something that I hadn't experienced in years, something that unnerved me, enough to make me mad, but no matter how long I thought about it, I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. I'd been in such a hurry to get rid of the feelings that always proved to be a liability, I'd been grateful to be free from them, but now I had to wonder if maybe I'd made a mistake.

Years ago, before life had changed in such a traumatic way, I wouldn't even have had to think about the emotion that I was feeling to identify it, I would have known what it was the moment that I experienced it, but not anymore. I'd learned a long time ago that it was best to hide away the parts of your heart that had survived all of the anguish, along with the shattered remnants of your soul, because that was the only way that you were able to survive…so how had the little mouse managed to make it so far?

Every emotion that she felt was shown on her face for everyone to see. It was almost as if she didn't know how to mask them, let alone hide them altogether, and I knew that she wouldn't be able to last very long if she was to leave the sanctity of her home. I was willing to bet that she wanted us to take her with us when we left, that was what she was going to ask us to do for her in return for the help that she was giving us. It was understandable that she would want to leave this place. I wouldn't think that any pregnant woman would want to be on her own, but had she really taken a good look at us and considered what her life would be like?

Chances were good that she would fall victim to the same fate whether she went with us or not, but if she were to leave her sanctuary, if she were to reveal herself to the ones who followed us, then she would never be free of their presence. Joe was determined to collect as many new bodies as he could get his hands on, and the little mouse would be right up his alley. He liked the bodies that were unmarked, it always pleased him to see all of that clean, pristine flesh, but his absolute favorite thing were the ones that were clean, pristine _and_ beautiful, and that was her to a tee.

"You said that you would help us as long as we agreed to help you," Furiosa said softly, slinking out of the room where she and the other girls had gone to rest. "And I am willing to listen to what you want in exchange for food and shelter, trembling rabbit, if you would care to enlighten me."

Shaina's POV

"My name is not rabbit, neither poor, nor little, nor trembling," I said quietly, meeting her eyes with some effort, when a part of me wanted, more than anything, to keep my gaze on the floor. "My name is Shaina Lewis, and I would be happy to 'enlighten' you with my requests, if you would be so kind as to use my name when you are speaking to me."

I don't know where I found the nerve to be so bold with my speech. Perhaps it was because I'd been alone for so long. Maybe you lost your inhibitions when you were on your own, with no one to talk to but an unborn child who never replied with words, no matter how long you spoke to them. I was afraid, for just a moment, that I might have made her angry, but the look that came into her eyes, and the smile that curved her lips, suggested that she admired me for speaking out.

"Names don't mean much these days," she replied, moving further into the room, to take in her new surroundings, not bothering to disguise her distaste of what she found. "I was beginning to think that Max was the only one who was holding on to that old used to be, but it looks like he's not alone in his refusal to let go of the past after all, is he, _Shaina_?"

She was speaking to me, but she was looking at the man who was sitting on Gram's old couch like it was comfortable, which was an out-and-out lie, given that it was filled with broken wooden beams, very little cushioning, and there always seemed to be a spring that was ready to gouge into your bum, no matter how gingerly you took your seat. His name was Max, this man who stared at me, who'd caught _me_ staring at _him_. He had an honest to goodness name, just like me, while everyone else seemed to have plucked their moniker out of the sky, choosing whatever struck their fancy.

"They might not mean much to anyone else, but I'm still fond of mine," I told her, moving slowly across the floor, to lower myself onto the most comfortable chair in the room, before anyone else could claim it away from me. "It helps me to remember the way things used to be, and that makes this world that we're living in a little easier to tolerate….."

She interrupted me with a laugh, a thoroughly unpleasant sound that conveyed mockery and instantly put my teeth on edge.

"There's no such thing as a tolerable life anymore," she argued, bestowing me with a look that suggested that I _was_ a poor, little trembling rabbit who was pathetically clinging to the notion that she could hold on to any part of who she used to be by keeping something as insignificant as her given name. "There is day-to-day survival, and, if you are very, _very_ lucky, you can exist on the outside, and meet the end of the day unscathed and intact in every way. We've been very lucky so far, as a group, but we can't guarantee that we will continue in that fashion, if you're thinking that you're going to go along with us. It would probably be best that you stayed here instead….."

My heart was sinking deeper and deeper with every word that she spoke. I knew that the thing that was giving her pause was my pregnant tummy, because she hadn't turned any of the other girls away, and there were a couple of them who seemed just as vulnerable as I was, if not more so. It was bad enough, to be rejected, but it was a hell of a lot worse when you were turned down before you'd even had the chance to make the request. I was beginning to realize that this woman was not my miracle, none of the females were, which left me with the males, four of them, and only two of those were choices that sat well with me.

The youngest of that duo of males seemed to have taken on the role of caretaker for everyone else in the group, and that ought to have made him the one that I hoped had come for me, but there was something that I could see in his eyes, a manic light that shone through the air of care and compassion that told me _not_ to trust him. He was the sort who acted all sweet and kind when people were watching, but I had an idea that he could change in a heartbeat, that he could be mean, even cruel, when no one was looking.

That left me with Max as my sole chance for a miracle, but how could it possibly be him? Granted, he seemed to enjoy looking at me, and there was no meanness or ulterior motives in his eyes, but I could sense that he didn't really want to be burdened with me either, so how could he have been sent to save me and my baby? I hadn't heard anything that would have led me to believe that my miracle would be a reluctant one, and it dawned on me that I might have been mistaken about the whole thing…which meant that I was a naïve fool, who'd wasted her days waiting for salvation that would never come her way.

"I don't mean any offense, Shaina, and we do appreciate everything that you've done, and everything you're offering to do, but this trip that we're taking is hard enough for _us_, and I just don't think that a pregnant woman would survive the hardships that are part of being on the road. There's not much that we can give you in trade for the food and shelter, but we're willing to work something out….."

"I can't stay here," I whispered, taking a deep breath and smoothing my hands downward, over the ever-growing bump of my belly. "I can't have my baby here, all on my own. There's too great a chance that we'd both die if I had to give birth alone, and I'm not going to stand idly by and allow that to happen, not when there's a chance that we could both live if we were to go with you."

I could hear the hint of pleading that had already taken root in my tone and it made me sick. Begging was a last resort, it was something that you went to after you'd been refused several times, as opposed to acting as a tactic that you used at the beginning. To be perfectly honest, I'd never been all that fond of pleading at any point, but what other choice did I have?

I had a good idea that the man called Max had just as much sway with the group as this woman did, but he wasn't saying a single word. He was watching us closely, but quietly, and I felt a flare of anger course through me when I realized that he had no intention of saying anything, ever, and I might have told him that he was a piss-poor excuse for a miracle, had I not been clinging to the hope that my baby and I would be saved, and that aspiration would undoubtedly be dashed to pieces if they suspected that I was soft in the head.

"Perhaps you ought to have considered how difficult it would be to survive each day with a child before you allowed someone to plant their seed within your womb," she said softly, looking at me, at the swell where my child grew, with obvious disdain. "That's another of those used to be things that do best in the past, Shaina. The notion of offspring these days is not only dangerous, it's selfish and careless as well, and I would think that you would know how to prevent it from happening…and if that fails, that you would know how to take care of the problem, if you prove unsuccessful when it comes to birth control….."

"I didn't have the opportunity to consider how difficult it would be, nor was I given the choice of whether or not I would use birth control," I said, meeting her eyes as I spoke, to avoid having to look at Max, and marveling at the fact that I could still be embarrassed by anything in this day and time. "But that doesn't mean that I would ever be able to punish my child for something that wasn't their fault. I wouldn't judge anyone else for the choice that they made, but this baby is mine, always has been and always will be, and I think that I should do everything in my power to make sure that my son or daughter has a chance to live their life….."

"I'm sorry, Shaina, but that kid's life was over before it even began," she said softly, as if she were trying to comfort me, which spoke volumes about the differences in the lives that we were accustomed to. "This world is nothing but chaos, and it is cruel to stick a child into the midst of Hell, so why would you insist on doing so, when it's obvious that you're a decent human being?"

I'd never allowed myself to think of whether or not the life in my womb would be happy outside of its soft and secure shelter. I hadn't ever contemplated whether or not my child would thrive, whether they'd ever know even an instant of happiness, but it seemed to me that I owed them the chance to find out for themselves. There was no guarantee that life would ever hold anything but pain for them, but there was also no promise in existence that said that they'd never know anything but misery and I felt like they deserved to be given the ability to live their life...besides which, I couldn't imagine _my_ life without my baby, and I wouldn't want to either.

"There are crueler things," a quiet voice said, filling the silence that had taken control of the room after she'd finished speaking. "And one of the cruelest would be to leave her behind when we could take her with us."

I turned in my chair, eyes wide, to stare at the man called Max. He'd spoken for me; he was supporting me, instead of her. The look that was in his eyes told me that he hadn't expected to say what he had, I had a feeling that he'd had every intention of keeping his mouth shut as he watched the drama unfold, but in the end he'd sided with me, just as I'd hoped he would…just as I'd prayed he would.

"You can't be serious….," the woman replied, watching him with narrowed eyes that were filled with a fair amount of disbelief, as well as a healthy dose of anger.

"I can, and I am," he said softly, but with a tone that said that he'd made up his mind, and that it would be unwise for her to argue with him. "She is taking care of us and we'll take care of her _and_ her baby…provided that we can get those heaps running again, that is, and if we can't, then we'll all meet the same end after all is said and done, won't we?"


	3. A Note From Mary Sue

Hello Readers,

I have decided that it would be best to concentrate my attention on updating and completing the stories that are winding down to an end before I continue with my newer works. That means that everything newish will have to be put on hiatus for a short time until all of the others on my to-do list are done.

The first work that will be on the line for completion is _Always Faithful_, which has three chapters left. The second will be _Someone to Watch over Me_, which will be finished in six more chapters. The third story in line is _Too Good To Be True_, which has five more chapters, and the fourth and final work on this list is _Your Eyes Betray Your Words_, which will reach its ending in six more chapters.

I know that this will have a lot of you waiting a good, long while for your updates, if you are not interested in any of the stories that I am going to concentrate on, and I apologize for that. Rest assured that I will return to them, once I have given these others the attention and completion that they deserve.

Thank you, as always, for your patience and your support,

~Miss Mary


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